Ridin' on the City of New Orleans Illinois Central Monday morning rail
There's Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders
Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail
Out on the southbound odyssey the train pulls out of Kankakee
Rollin' past houses farms and fields
And Passing towns that have no names the freightyards full of old black men
And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles
Good morning America how are you
I said don't you know me I'm your native son
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done
Dealin' cards with the old man in the club car
Penny a point ain't no one keepin' score
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle
And feel the wheels rumbling neath the floor
And the sons of poor men porters and the sons of engineers
Ride their father's magic carpets made of steel
And mothers with their babes asleep rockin' to the gentle beat
The rhythm of the rail is all they hear
Good morning America how are you
I said don't you know me I'm your native son
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done
It's night time on the City of New Orleans changing cars in Memphis Tennessee
Half way home and we'll be there by morning
Through the Mississippi darkness rolling down to the sea
But all the towns and cities seem to fade into a bad dream
And the steel rail still ain't heard the news
The conductor sings his songs again the passengers will please refrain
This train got the disappearing railroad blues
Good night America how are you
I said don't you know me I'm your native son
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done